Knightsbridge Isle
by s-o-f-t-l-u-x-e
Summary: What happens when Massie moves to England? Will she be given a royal reception fit for an Alpha, or sent back across the pond as the ultimate LBR? R&R, please!
1. Chapter 1

Aspen tapped her Chanel-manicured finger against her chin and inspected her reflection in the full-length mirror. Her pale blonde hair was perfectly straight and frizz-free and her navy eyes glittered thanks to a subtle sweep of brown liner. A loose, white silk tank top complimented both her summer-tanned skin and new navy Rag & Bone skinny jeans. A series of casually mismatched bracelets (a handful of earth-toned beaded bracelets, two studded gold bangles, and her ever-present gold Harry Winston tennis bracelet) finished off the look, but something was missing. Were the white and gold Tory Burch flats too matchy? That was it. Aspen switched the shoes for a pair of suede-and-hemp espadrilles. Perfect. Her look was a cross between summer and autumn, and matched the crisp leaves outside.

Teetering slightly in the three-inch heels (a summer full of flats and sandals was definitely not helping here), Aspen grabbed her classic Longchamps tote and headed downstairs. She had packed a bottle of Evian facial mist just in case, but the first day back at Knightsbridge Isle was hardly something to sweat over. Despite the new science wing and redecorated auditorium, the exclusive school had hardly changed since Aspen had started back in kindergarten. The transition from 8th to 9th was going to be easier than finding a picture of Will and Kate in _Hello!_ Magazine.

Her younger brother and sister, Liam and Gemma, were already sitting at the breakfast table. Liam was on his third buttered scone, and Gemma was daintily nibbling at her plate of poached eggs, a few stray blonde curls coming dangerously close to her chocolate milk. Gemma's eyes lit up when Aspen sat down; the eight-year-old adored her older sister. Liam, who thought himself to be particularly cool now that he was in Year Seven, nodded nonchalantly at Aspen. She grinned back and poured herself a cup of black tea. Naomi, their adorable Australian _au pair_, pushed the silver pot of sugar cubes toward Aspen.

"Gemma's been a right princess today," she boasted, pouring the small girl more milk. Aspen bit into a scone and winked at her sister. Naomi continued with a sigh. "But Liam won't let me fix his collar." Liam had deliberately unbuttoned his white shirt and slackened his grey-and-blue-striped tie.

"It looks loads cooler like this!" He protested, looking toward his sisters for help. Gemma giggled.

"Very cool." Aspen agreed, discreetly rolling her eyes. What was next, a Bieber-esque haircut? She finished the rest of her tea and stood up from the table, carefully balancing in the treacherous wedges. "I've got to go, don't want to keep Poppy waiting!" Liam grinned his thanks as Naomi brushed Gemma's curls away from her face once again.

* * *

><p>Poppy squealed excitedly as the dark green Rolls Royce pulled up to her house. Once a castle for a long-forgotten Earl, the sprawling building had been redecorated from Med-<em>evil<em> to traditional British chic. Aspen hugged her best friend tightly as she slid into the car's cream leather backseat.

"What do you think?" Poppy grinned impishly. Aspen studied Poppy's knee-high white cable-knit socks, dark gray booties, fox-fur vest, and ruffled white and gold Free People dress. Her hair color was almost identical to Aspen's, but ever since they were little she had worn hers in curls while Aspen stuck to straight. Sometimes they switched it up for parties or dates, but the girls had always loved the Mary-Kate and Ashley look. Poppy's hair was down in tousled waves and held back with a burnt orange headband that matched the color of the fur on her vest and the plaid on her Burberry messenger bag.

Aspen put her finger against her lips, pretending to debate with herself. "Hmm…not your best work, Poppy." Poppy pushed her friend's shoulder playfully and Aspen broke into giggles. "You look ah-mazing! James is going to love it!" Poppy beamed.

"I can't wait to see him. It's been almost two months!" Poppy and James both came from similar backgrounds and it seemed that they had always been meant for each other. Aspen didn't mind the intrusion; she preferred to play the field.

"You two are sickeningly cute." Aspen shook her head in mock disapproval. Poppy widened her grey-blue eyes and bit down on her lip excitedly.

"Did you hear? We're getting a new girl!" Aspen slowly processed the information. Occasionally, a student would transfer for a year or two, normally a foreign princess or new-money brat. But with that slight exception, anyone who was anyone had _always_ gone to Kingsley Isle.

"Really? How do you know?" Aspen scrunched her freshly waxed eyebrows together.

"James told me! He met her on the plane, isn't that weird?" Poppy was as apprehensive as Aspen.

"What's she like?"

"She's from New York, apparently she's really nice." Poppy shrugged. "At least she'll bring some excitement." Aspen had to agree with that.


	2. Chapter 2

Even after an emergency Skype-session with the Pretty Committee, Massie's heart was still racing. In Westchester, everyone had known her. In England, she had nobody. Well, nobody except James. Massie allowed a smile to creep across her face as she thought of the ah-dorable Bawtie. A hot new boyfriend was just what she needed to promote her status from "new girl" to "Alpha" at prissy Knightsbridge Isle. Their new four-story stone mansion (complete with a backyard garden and tall, iron-wrought gates) _almost_ made up for the Block's disappointing Christmas season.

Massie's new room was a major upgrade from the iPad. With sheer white curtains, eco-friendly bamboo flooring, and lilac fleur-de-lis patterned wallpaper, the room radiated a fresh start. Massie's white sleigh bed, purple Ralph Lauren sheets (a going-away present from Alicia), cream-colored cashmere blankets, and tiny matching dog bed held court in one corner of the room. Across the room was a huge bay window, cushioned with limited edition Vera Bradley pillows, the perfect place for updating the State of the Union. Massie had added a royal air accenting the purple-and-white theme with touches of gold – the pattern on the Vera Bradley pillows, the knobs on her closet doors and desk drawers, and the large frames on the portraits of New York and full length mirror were all glittering opulently.

Massie sighed contentedly and sunk into the white chaise that she had kept from the iPad (updated, of course, with golden clawed feet). In t-minus 10 minutes she would be on her way to Knightsbridge Isle, courtesy of the Blocks' new driver AJ. Inez, after some persuasion, had agreed to travel to England with the Blocks, but Isaac had chosen to stay in New York. AJ was no Isaac, but he was well dressed and young, with thick dark hair and deeply tanned skin.

Massie stole one last look at her reflection. The outfit had looked pristine on the Massie-quin, but was it still ah-mazing enough to guarantee her immediate Alpha status? The skinny beige Joie cargo pants, gold Marc Jacobs flats, green-and-white stripped Juicy Couture cardigan with gold buttons and cream-colored scoop-neck tank top were undoubtedly Alpha material. But Massie didn't fell like herself, British or not. With a sudden burst of inspiration, she switched her plain Longchamps bag for a borderline-gaudy gold leopard-print Betsey Johnson bag. Perfect.

* * *

><p>"Thanks, Is— um, AJ!" Massie took a deep breath and placed the leather sole of her ballet flat on the plush green quad. She quickly finger-combed her chocolate brown waves and looked longingly at her empty wrist. Her signature gold charm bracelet had been passed down to Alicia as the new Alpha of the PC, and Massie was still trying to find a suitable replacement.<p>

Her gold-flecked eyes scanned the lush grounds. Everything looked so…dull. At OCD, the students dressed to impress in the finest, most fashionable selection from Bergdorf and Barney's. The scene before Massie looked like someone had taken a Photo Booth picture of OCD but forgotten to remove the sepia setting.

A sudden rush of loneliness washed over Massie. If the Pretty Committee had been here, they would have stunned Knightsbridge with sequins and neon colors. But one girl by herself (even if that girl _was_ a former Alpha) couldn't turn Theory into Kate Spade. Still, Massie resigned herself not to give up on her Westchester-bred style. A few touches of class would accent her new royal outlook, but she couldn't turn into Alicia, who made the PC suffer through a few weeks of blindingly terrible fashion straight out of Spanish _Vogue_ every year.

Massie had memorized her schedule to avoid the tackiness of carrying it around – _so _sixth grade. Her first class was French, and started in ten minutes. Trying to shake off the LBR-ish feeling that came from being alone, Massie sauntered down the hall to find her locker. All of the lockers were dark, finished wooden doors with gleaming silver locks. With a click, her depressingly empty locker swung open. Massie emptied her stuffed tote of anything she wouldn't use for French and stood back up, practically colliding into an ethereal, raven-haired beauty.

The girl swept her ice-blue eyes over Massie and offered a polite smile. "So you're the new girl." She stated, her British accent thick but intriguingly expressionless. Massie held her ground.

"Massie Block." She offered a hand and the mysterious girl shook it with surprising force, considering her slight physique.

"So we've all heard. I'm Kenna, of course." She paused, straightening her crisp white linen dress and gold-edged navy blazer. Massie restrained from ripping off her Juicy Couture sweater, feeling childish and tacky. "It was a pleasure to meet you." Unfailingly polite, Kenna turned on the heel of her tall brown riding boot and strode off.

Massie slammed her locker shut and fumed silently as she walked to French. It had barely been five minutes, and her status had already been challenged by a girl wearing the most boring outfit she had ever seen.


	3. Chapter 3

The bell rang abruptly, jarring Aspen's attention from her Tiffany compact. The new girl had decided to sit directly behind her, and Aspen was sneaking glances at her through the compact mirror. So far, she had detected a pert, slightly upturned nose and gloss-slicked lips, but little else.

Aspen shut the compact and slipped it back inside her bag as Madame Beaufort rushed into the classroom. A stern, mousy-looking woman, Madame's reputation amongst the students was hardly positive. But Aspen loved French, and had resigned herself to deal with 45 minutes of boredom and reprimands each day. Poppy, on the other hand, had been convinced by her father – a reputable businessman – to take Mandarin Chinese. And given Madame's less than stellar rapport, Aspen didn't want to risk sneaking a text to her best friend on her Blackberry.

"_Bonjour, les enfants. Je m'appelle Madame Beaufort." _Madame's voice was nasal and haughty.

Aspen tuned out the rest of the first-day-of-school lecture and discreetly looked around to inspect the rest of the class. A small cluster of boys near the edge of the room looked as disinterested as she was, and behind them sat Gemma and Ysabel, gossiping wordlessly with pointed glances at the boys in front of them. Erik, a lanky Norwegian boy, sat at the front, already taking notes in perfect French. Behind him, and next to Aspen, lounged Liam. Aspen and Liam and been friends for as long as anyone could remember, and she sighed inaudibly when she saw that he was copying Erik's notes. Typical.

The classroom hierarchy was situated as usual, with the exception of the glossy-lipped girl behind her. Aspen's fifteen years of good breeding and etiquette threatened to escape her as she tried to subtly catch a glimpse of the new girl.

As it often does with the beautiful and rich, luck was on her side. A purple pen rolled under her chair, and Aspen picked it up with as much nonchalance as she could muster and turned around.

"Is this yours?" She mouthed, fearing Madame's wrath. The girl nodded and pursed her lips, examining Aspen with equal curiosity. Chocolate-brown waves framed her hazel eyes, which were expertly accented with plum eyeliner. She was gorgeous, without a doubt, but was she enough for Knightsbridge Isle?

She dropped the pen into the girl's waiting hand and smiled politely, getting a surprisingly genuine, toothy smile in return. Aspen turned back around and exchanged a bemused glance with Liam, who winked suggestively. Ugh, _boys._

* * *

><p>"Well?" Poppy linked arms with Aspen as the two sauntered down the hallway, balancing their navy KISS gym bags against each other.<p>

"Madame is super crazy, Poppy, I've got no idea why I took that class. Liam got pervier," She paused for an eye roll at his childishness. "Gem and Ysabel talked through the whole thing, and the new girl…" Her voice trailed off as she tried to picture the hazel-eyed American.

"Oh yeah!" Poppy bit down on her lower lip in excitement. "Kenna told me her name's _Massie_." Aspen nearly tripped over her wedges.

"Kenna's here?"

"Of course she's here. Where else would she be?" Poppy shrugged, unaffected.

Aspen bit down on the insides of her cheeks. "Oh, um, I guess I just forgot about her." If her words were shaky, Poppy didn't notice. "How was Mandarin?"

"I got to see James!" Her matte peach lips spread into a devilish grin. "Cute as ever – of course – and he's got loads of cute new clothes from New York, and sugar-free candy from Dylan's for our next party. _And_ he got me this!" Her smile widened as she showed off a sapphire-eyed fox hanging from a delicate golden chain around her neck.

"Oh my goodness, I love it!" Aspen all but squealed, stopping to study the necklace. "Be a _dah-_rling and invite me to your wedding, won't you?" She stuck her poreless nose into the air haughtily.

"But of course, _Ah_-spen!" Poppy replied in an affected tone that mirrored Madame's over-articulation. The two girls broke into giggles and were still snorting with laughter when they reached the dance studio. As soon as Kenna had left Aspen's mind, a sheet of jet-black hair swung into the locker room before them. Avoiding the empyrean beauty was not going to be easy, but what choice did she have left?


End file.
